


ep. 1: pilot

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: (there's not a huge overlap with hamilton and tpp), (tho like none of you would have read it), (tm), Fluffy, Multi, ON AN VAUGELY IMPORANNT SIDE NOTE:, WTNV au!!, Why?, and also juno's suffered enough, and joshuas voice is so pretttttttyyyyyy, and non-canonically?, but!!, canonically, i know what you're thinking:, i'm back again with another of those but for a different fandom!!, i'm in denail and they are Most Definitely Not Dead, just let the lady rest, pilot is mostly the main character in this bc., scientist peter would be great?, they're just sad about the FreeDome, this will not be sad like my other one, what the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: "A friendly martian community where the sun is deadly, the moon is actually a mansion, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we sit on our sofas, drunk and thinking about everyone who left and who we left. Welcome... to Hyperion City."





	ep. 1: pilot

"Hello, listeners." Juno is tired. "We've been hearing from Mick Mercury about an angel that he says came and talked to him. We've been hearing about this incessantly. Mick will not stop texting me, and it's getting irritating. We at the station implore that someone close to Mercury tells him to shut up.

"The angels, he says, are ethereal beings and love salt. He says they're sitting out on his porch and eating salt on watermelons. He says they are very tall and helped him reach the light bulb on his porch." Juno paused. "Good," he muttered, "maybe now he'll stop asking me.

"And now: the news." Juno hates doing the news. There's rarely anything interesting and he can feel his listeners attention being sapped. But, as he shuffles through the reports, it dawns on him that there might be something interesting today. 

"A new man came into town today. His teeth and wit were sharp, and his coat was beautiful. He wore his lab coat like a king wears his cape. 

"He says he is a scientist. Well, listeners, I might say I'm a private eye, but that doesn't make me one. And I may say I'm a radio host, but that doesn't make me a good one. Perhaps he is just a model from a faraway land, here to study the fashions of lab coats. Or perhaps he is a master criminal, ready to distract our best and brightest with his sharp teeth and sharper wit..."

Juno continues, weaving a story about the new man, and on the other side of town, Mayor Pereyra listens to his show. 

 

The mayor is also tired. They are always tired- of the imbeciles they surround themselves with in order to be mayor, with the citizens of the town, with existence. 

Pilot looks back down at their half-finished press release. The Freedome is off limits to civilians- to everyone- because..  _because it's mine. Because it was my dream, and now it's just a sand waste. Not even a normal sand waste. An interdimensional sand waste with a lighthouse._

Pilot is indecisive about the sand waste issue. They're sure that civilians should not go near it because the loudspeakers near the entrance and the tests would make any teenager curious, and the promise of safety behind the walls would make any adult eager and the bright colors would make any child want to wander past the door. 

They are indecisive as to how best to utilize the sand wastes and how to make it work for Hyperion. They are pondering this very problem and tapping their feet a faint song heard from the next room over when the scientist comes in. 

"Peter Nureyev," the scientist purrs, "I came in to confirm my grant for science. I'm supposed to stay near Big Rico's."

Pilot immediately sees them as equal. Not better- no one is better than Pilot- but Nureyev could be equal to anyone he wanted to be. 

"Ah," Pilot says, sliding their press release aside. "Any particular field?"

"The science one," Nureyev says, and they sound sure enough of themselves that anyone else in Hyperion would be fooled. 

"The science one." Pilot agreed, quietly taking inventory of everything on their desk. "If you fill out this sheet," they pull a form out of their desk, "we'll get right to inserting you into the Hall of Public Records."

Peter takes the sheet and smiles at Pilot. Pilot smiles back. They both take a moment admiring the other's flawless lipstick, and then Nureyev leaves, his lab coat swishing behind him. 

Pilot's favorite bejeweled paperweight is gone. It's in Nureyev's pocket, a steady weight as he drives down the streets. 

 

Peter is also listening to Juno's show as he fills out the form Mayor Pereyra gave him, careful not to give any truthful information. Peter already loves listening to Juno's show, as he loves listening to positive descriptions of himself.  _'Sharp teeth and a sharp wit.' I should write that one down._

The paperweight from the mayor's office is being utilized as a bookend, keeping some of the books Nureyev bought last second before leaving to Hyperion propped up. Most of the stuff he brought were things he'd never need, other than to look credible, because Peter hadn't found much out about Hyperion when he was still in the outside world other than that appearances are everything. One of his partners had told him that, as if it was something unique to the town, and Peter had almost felt bed when he told them that that was true everywhere. 

Peter finishes the form and begins talking back to the radio- he used to do it at home, when he was alone, because he was always alone, and it gets lonely being always alone. You go mad if you don't talk to something. 

The radio announcer named Juno, with his silky voice, talks about the lights above the Arbies: "Many think that they're Martians, come to introduce us to the marvels they've discovered. Some think they're-"

"I met a martian once," Peter mumbles, writing numbers and 7th grade math on the margins of the form. "I think. It was an alien, anyhow. It had only one eye-"

"Sounds like you met a cyclops," Juno says.

"Oh, no. It came from the sky. Cyclops' live in caves."

"We had aliens once in Hyperion."

Peter slips into his quieter voice, the one he reserves for people he likes and people he likes to impress. "Really, what were they like?"

"Oh, terrible. Notorious tax evaders and never brought food to PTA meetings."

"Are you a parent?"

Juno laughs dryly, and Peter hears it in some distant part of his brain that he stopped using when he stopped staying in one place longer than a month. 

"Me as a parent would likely be more of a nightmare than anything else." There's a pause, radio silence, and Peter recalls that he's speaking to a radio. It sleepily occurs to him that the announcer talking back was not something that happened to him at home. "But enough about me, listeners. Let's head about the traffic."

Peter dozes off to Juno's voice, talking about the ghost cars and the man wandering the side of the road. A few blocks away, the secret-police-sheriff calls the mayor.

 

"Pereyra." Sheriff Loo is abrupt. They're not in the mood for chitchat, they have business to get to, as well as the rest of the cop show they're watching with Mick Mercury and his new friend.

"Loo," the mayor replies. They're less abrupt, cooler. "What's this?"

"It's about the Freedome." Loo winces. The mayor hates talking about anything they did that failed. 

The mayor's voice verges on dangerous. "What  _about_ the Freedome?"

"I think you should let go of it."

"Well, I think you should let go of your job."

"We're all a bit worried."

"I'm fine, Loo. It's just a waste. A sand waste." The mayor sounds tired. 

Loo chuckles. "I just don't want it to interfere with your job."

"You don't have to worry. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have business to attend to."

"'Course, mayor." Loo tips their hat at a camera in the bushes, knowing that they mayor will see it. 

"Good evening, sheriff."

 

"Goodnight, Hyperion, Goodnight." Juno is more tired than he was. It's exhausting work, keeping all of Hyperion informed, and he might not be the best at it, but he's the only one that tries. At this point, it's just as much for him as for anything else. Sometimes he wonders what he would give up for this city, but he knows it doesn't matter. 

Nothing would try to make him give it up, anyway. 


End file.
